


Maraas Shokra

by fanfoolishness (LoonyLupin), LoonyLupin



Series: Character Studies (Dragon Age) [8]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, Qun, Qunari, Viddathari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:58:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5060221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/fanfoolishness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/LoonyLupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Iron Bull is asked what would happen if Thedas fell to the Qun:  “And Sera would end up with her mind broken, sweeping floors in some shop.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maraas Shokra

Her hands move over the handle of the broomstick, knuckles curled around sleek wood.  It’s well-made, as is everything here; it helps her to do her job right.  

And that’s important to her, in a way she can’t define, to see the shop clean and tidy so the other Viddathari have a nice place to buy their wares.  It makes her feel calm to see the floors shining in the sun, free of dust, clean and proper.

Her master nods approvingly, and she gives the tall man a small smile.  She would feel proud of her work except she knows she shouldn’t.  Pride is inappropriate.  Pride is not a part of the Qun.

She’s glad for that.  Life is neater this way.  Safer.  There are no struggles now.  She only knows  _asit tal-eb_ , the way things are meant to be.

There’s a buzzing in her ears, and she looks around wildly.  A bee crawls on the end of the broom handle, fuzzy and golden in the late afternoon light.  She watches it, trying hard to focus.

She frowns, slightly.  Bees… Made her laugh, before, didn’t they?  Before the Qun?

_Because they’re frigging funny!_

She shakes her head, disturbed by the splinter of memory.  She was nothing before the Qun.  She knows that.  She  _knows_  that.

The bee takes flight, buzzing around her.  The elf pushes her choppy blonde hair from her eyes, trying to see where it has gone.

The shopkeeper shoos the bee outside with a dishcloth, releasing it to its duty.

The elf tightens her grip on the broomstick, and keeps sweeping, content.  She has already forgotten the interruption.

There is nothing to struggle against.  It is the way things are meant to be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little heartbreak for ya.


End file.
